


Wet and Dirty Work

by Nostradumbass (singularthey)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Work, Unsafe Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singularthey/pseuds/Nostradumbass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is a professional hired by Arthur, who has an intense watersports fetish, to satisfy his desires discreetly. He goes above and beyond to see that Arthur is satisfied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet and Dirty Work

**Author's Note:**

> This was unprompted, but was originally posted on [the kinkme_merlin Bon-Bons post](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/22767.html?thread=36658159#t36658159).

Alone, no one part of Merlin's newest customer would have been a surprise: he'd catered to minor celebrities before, to the young, the ridiculously good-looking, and certainly to a few individuals with more experience and accessories for their kink than he had. Together, though, the picture the customer presented seemed somehow wrong; it seemed odd that someone who knew their fetish so well, and who was so wealthy and good-looking could not find satisfaction on their own, without paying for it. Of course, that was a consequence of stardom; he could be sure Merlin, at least, wouldn't say a word to anyone about him. He had come recommended by a friend, after all.

It didn't help, either, that this particular customer was a complete arse. He suspected that might have as much to do with his seeking professional help as the celebrity issue.

There he was, ordering Merlin around like he had never done his job before. Prat.

"Have you had enough to drink? I do want my money's worth," the customer, who he knew as the son of Uther Pendragon, business mogul, said. "Look at how skinny you are — can you even hold any decent amount of piss in you?"

Merlin looked down at his own still-clothed body. He badly wanted to make a jab at Arthur's own body, or defend his form, but instead, he remained professional. Mostly. "I can hold plenty, and I've never disappointed anyone with my bladder's capacity before. And I make the most of what I do have."

Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling off his shirt. "Right. We'll see about that. Get undressed."

Merlin frowned. "You realise I'm not a prostitute, right? You aren't paying me for sex."

Arthur glared at him. "I'm not stupid, and you will not treat me like I am. I figured you might prefer to avoid making a mess of your clothes. Whatever — at least take off your shirt, so I can get a decent look at you."

Merlin thought of protesting, because he normally wouldn't disrobe at all, but figured it wasn't worth the hassle. He tugged his shirt over his head and nearly jumped when it was off, as Arthur had moved into his personal space in the time it had taken the fabric to pass in front of his eyes.

Arthur poked him in the belly. "Are you sure you've even got anything in there? Or all you all bladder and no stomach?"

Merlin pushed his hand away, reminding himself to be gentle, for the money if for no other reason. "I'm completely sure. What do you expect, anyway? A clear view of my full bladder?"

"I expected something more like this," Arthur replied, undoing his fly and pulling his jeans down his hips. Once his pants went, too, Merlin could see how distended his otherwise firm stomach was, rounded almost unnaturally. "This," Arthur continued, "is what a truly full bladder looks like."

"I try not to risk my health for the sake of a few extra drops, thanks." Despite his reply, Merlin admired Arthur's ability to hold so much; it was only then, when he was looking for it, that he noted the delicacy of Arthur's stance, the smoothness of his step. If he hadn't known better, he'd never have realised how much Arthur was fighting his body's natural urges.

Arthur shook his head, but continued removing his clothing, then pointed to the large bed in the middle of the room. "This is where we'll be. Before you ask, no, I do not want any kind of tarp."

"I wasn't going to ask." Merlin had already figured that if Arthur was savvy enough to have towels and toys specifically for pissplay on hand, he could damn well figure out whether he wanted a tarp or not himself. "You want to lie down, then?"

Arthur glared at him again, as though he'd insulted him personally. "No. If I was ready, you'd know it. I have some more to do first; make yourself... well, no, don't make yourself comfortable. I want you out as soon as possible."

Without another word, Arthur turned away, rifling through a closet with a hidden chest of drawers. Merlin took the moment to really look at the room; it, like the rest of the mansion, was enormous, and decadently decorated. Arthur's bedroom furniture had gold in places where gold had no right to be, and the bedclothes looked like they could flow over his hands like water — or, well, like some other liquid. The woods were dark, the floors marble — a ridiculous choice for a bedroom, he thought — and the walls were a rich, deep red, to match almost everything else. It was the picture of opulence, not unlike how he imagined a prince might keep his rooms.

He turned his attention back to the would-be prince, watching as he pulled on a pair of ripped pantyhose. It didn't seem strange to him; he'd pissed on men wearing all sorts of things, from a full-body rubber suit covered in mud to a fursuit made to look like a raccoon. Compared to some outfits, pantyhose seemed ordinary.

Once he had them on, adjusted so that a carefully cut hole in the back fit right up against his arsehole and with his cock still hanging out over the waistband, he set up other items by the bed: a pair of towels, a bottle of lubricant, and an empty beer bottle. Lastly he picked up a speculum, already coated in lubricant, and inserted it carefully into his own arse.

As he opened the speculum and stretched his hole, Merlin wondered when the right moment to ask for details would be. He worried briefly that Arthur would be condescending and assure him he was just looking for someone to piss on his chest, or face, but shoved the thought aside. No point in letting a customer bully him. "How d'you want me, then?"

"Kneeling behind me, on the bed," Arthur said, and there was enough distraction in his voice that Merlin knew he was feeling the arousal of what they would be doing already. Of course, his over-full bladder might also have played its part in that. Sure enough, as Arthur crossed to the bed, Merlin could see that his cock was hard already. "I want it in my arse, in case that's not clear. Don't worry about the bedding; just fill me up."

Merlin nodded, crawling up behind him. He unzipped himself while Arthur got into position, palming his cock lightly. Although he wasn't as much into his work as his customers were, the feeling of power it gave him never failed to get his cock at least a bit interested. Arthur's looks helped, too, and his attitude seemed to go unnoticed by Merlin's libido.

He pushed his trousers down only slightly, just enough to get his cock clear of any fabric, and shuffled up behind Arthur, steadying himself with a hand on his hip. He half expected Arthur to protest at the touch, but in his position, on all fours and with his head down, his arse raised in the air, he seemed suddenly pliant and agreeable.

Gently, he pulled at the edges of the torn pantyhose, clearing the space around his hole. The fabric was bunched around his balls, his cock hanging thick and heavy down between his thighs. The speculum shined against his skin, looking almost like a metallic runway. He pointed his cock, paused a moment, and asked, "Are you ready?"

It only took a grunt of affirmation before he let loose, relief washing over him as he emptied his full bladder straight into Arthur's arse. He grinned at the way it splashed into Arthur's open, gaping hole, pooling and shimmering a few inches down, the level quickly rising. In a matter of only seconds he was urging Arthur with his hands to tip his arse further, letting him hold in just that little bit more.

Arthur, for his part, was reduced to a shivering, whimpering mess in no time. Merlin could tell from the way his toes curled and his hands fisted in his pillows that this was no small pleasure for him; it seemed at times to wrack his entire body, causing his cock to jerk and leak without any help from his hand.

Arthur's worries about his bladder were, of course, unnecessary. His hole could only take so much, and even when he tried to breath evenly and relax he couldn't hold nearly all of it, the excess running out and splashing down his thighs, soaking into the fine fabric of the bed sheets. Merlin took the overflow as a cue to improvise; it seemed a bit risky, with this particular customer, but many of his past customers had been grateful for his divergences from his given directions. He redirected his aim, splashing urine over first Arthur's right cheek, then his left, the now wet pantyhose clinging to his skin. Then he went low, passing over his full hole again and down toward his cock. With the hand he had been using for balance, he cupped Arthur's erection, pulling it back so that he could more easily piss directly on it, coating it from root to tip in nearly-clear piss.

Clearly, he had been right to improvise; the attention to his cock pulled a wrecked moan from Arthur's throat, and he thrust, shallowly and helplessly. Merlin gave him a quick, friendly stroke, then let his cock fall and went back to his original aim, hitting the rim of Arthur's hole to be sure he could feel it. His free hand returned to Arthur's thigh, and he tilted Arthur up again, rising up off his knees to keep his aim true.

As his stream ran to a trickle, his bladder slowly coming empty, and he watched urine continue to stream down Arthur Pendragon's thighs, Merlin was struck with a thought: how would it feel to press his cock into that arse, now that it was full and dripping wet with hot piss? The idea of it sent a shudder through him, hardening his cock further, to the point that the last few spurts out of him were erratic rather than steady, and managed to go up Arthur's back.

Arthur, who had already been breathing hard and starting to sweat and shiver, could not bite back the throaty " _fuck me_ " that rose out of his throat at the sensation.

And Merlin wanted to, badly. Arthur was too attractive, the situation too alluring for him to walk away from it without considering more. He'd done more, in the past, as an unofficial extra; a handjob here and there, or occasionally letting a customer suck him. He'd never fucked a customer, though... but oh, how he wanted to.

"I would," he blurted, before reason could catch up with his mouth. "If you want," he added, "I mean, I could stay and fuck you."

Arthur froze, and Merlin, unable to see his face, felt his stomach clench. When he let out a slow, shuddering breath, Merlin felt hopeful. "I thought you weren't a prostitute? Or did you just mean you aren't a prostitute, because you're a rent boy?"

Merlin felt like he should take offence at that, but his cock wouldn't let him. "Off the books," he said. "You paid for piss and got it; the sex is free, if you're interested."

Arthur paused another moment. "I don't want you to use a condom."

"That's stupid," Merlin argued, but even to his own ears his protest sounded weak. "You don't know what I might have. I mean, I don't know what you—"

"No condom or get out."

It was against every ounce of better judgement in him, but Merlin was immediately babbling an agreement, backing up to shuck off his trousers and pants. Once naked, he reached forward, draping himself over warm, naked, wet skin to grab the bottle of lube, coating his cock liberally.

He did not hesitate then; although he closed the speculum carefully, as soon as he had pulled it out and piss started gushing out of Arthur, he pushed in, trying to keep as much of it in as he could.

His thrusts were hard and erratic, and Arthur lifted his head off the pillows, using his arms to push back to meet him. He groaned unabashedly, urging Merlin to go harder, faster. Merlin complied as best he could, pulling Arthur's hips to meet him with a loud slapping of flesh. He felt a sprinkle of warm wetness on his thighs, and when he bent to the side he saw Arthur's bouncing cock helplessly spurting piss in short bursts, leaving new streaks of wetness under him. He reached for it, pressing it up to Arthur's stomach and jerking him roughly, letting the piss and precome ease his way.

Arthur came first, easily, grinding out a ragged moan as orgasm was wrenched out of him. Merlin kept holding his cock through it and after, making a point of pounding harder to hear how it could wring new sounds out of him, to feel how it could force another jet of piss out of his softening cock.

For his part, he was in heaven; the feel of his own hot piss splashing around his cock and out against his balls combined with the hot tightness of Arthur's arse in the best of ways, ways he hadn't imagined it could. And while he was fucking Arthur and reducing him to helpless vocalisations, he felt he could truly appreciate how beautiful the man beneath him was, wrung out and yet still desperate with his achingly full bladder. He wondered how it would feel to be fucked through such a sensation, and as he did he ground hard into Arthur, who responded in his sensitivity by clenching, hard. Merlin gripped Arthur's hips as he came, almost silent as he added more warmth and wetness to Arthur's insides.

He had no time to relish the afterglow; once he had come, Arthur was pulling away, pushing Merlin out of his space and grabbing for something on the table by the bed. He rose up on his knees, pulling the pantyhose up and over his cock, while bringing the mouth of the beer bottle to the head of his cock through it. He pissed without hesitation, and his face was the very picture of relief and ecstasy, his mouth going slack and his eyes nearly closing. He didn't seem to care that his aim sometimes failed, splashing piss over his fingers, though it didn't matter much, as he managed to fill the bottle all the same.

He was still pissing steadily through the pantyhose when he pulled the bottle away, bringing it immediately to his lips. Merlin was entranced, watching Arthur's throat work quickly as he sucked down his own urine, while kneeling in a spreading puddle of still more. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone enjoy something quite so thoroughly.

Unfortunately, the bliss and awe came to an end after Arthur wiped at his mouth, setting the bottle down. "Your money is on the table by the door, under the vase. You've earned it. If you see my father on your way out, tell him you came looking for work."

Merlin felt himself slide back into his professional facade, feeling like he was slipping between madness and sanity. It would end that way; he was hired for a job, of course, not for companionship or, god forbid, for kissing smug prats who chugged piss, no matter how much he may have wanted to, however strange that urge was.

He dressed quickly, pocketed his payment, and left without looking back. He might have, but something told him he would find his way back there soon.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the original note at the end:
>
>> Aaand on his way out he's stopped by Uther, who hires him on as a gardener, and Merlin kind of destroys their garden because he's too busy having an illicit romance with Arthur. THE END.


End file.
